


All That Glitters is Viking... (or) Splendor, ten-fold

by BroltaAMaga



Series: Uppsala [1]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 08:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13267896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroltaAMaga/pseuds/BroltaAMaga
Summary: I'm rewatching the series from the beginning and really enjoyed the drunken and drug fueled revelry at Uppsala. I saw the flirtation between Thyri and Athelstan and just had to explore that. She's fresh out of the hideous match with the elderly, selfish Earl Bjarni and Athelstan is full of Viking-fueled testosterone with less and less of his former Christian guilt. The two come together in the most Viking of ways, full of ale, on hallucinogens, laying in moss, under the shadow of the temple of Uppsala and without any shame for the pursuit of physical pleasure.





	All That Glitters is Viking... (or) Splendor, ten-fold

It was really only the painting that he missed, Athelstan thought as the drugs flowed through his system. That was really the only reason he’d joined the monastery. After his parents died, he had nowhere else to go and when he toured the monastery with his father’s friend, the head monk, saw another monk stroking the the glittering gold paint over paper, he was hooked. Sitting in that scriptorium for hours with his brush and those vibrant colors was worth all the sacrifice. Or so he’d thought until now.

He was never a very good Christian... or a good monk, he thought, smiling to himself as he grew hard now looking at the seductive, enticing Thyri. 

Maybe it was just the Saxon women, he wondered. None of them in their covered up coldness had enticed him away from that glittering gold paint. He’d give buckets of it now for the Viking woman in front of him. 

She curled a finger at him and as that single digit flexed towards herself, he felt it beckon him to her and his cock straight to to her core. 

He swallowed hard as his hands were suddenly on her shoulders. His drug addled brain hadn’t registered the twenty steps between them and he vaguely wondered how he’d gotten there. Had time stopped? Had one of the gods plucked him up and plunked him down in front of her? 

The night pulsed around him, sights of the other worshippers, fire, music all ground together into a delicious blend of ecstasy; exaltation and surrender. Athelstan heard a female moan nearby and his head whipped over to the sight of Torstein, taking a young woman, both completely naked, up against a tree. Her thighs around his lower back clenched in unison with his ass as he drove into her. 

Then Thyri‘s hand was on Athelstan’s chin, drawing his eyes back to hers. The firelight danced in them and he lost himself in their dark welcome. She leaned up on her toes and kissed him, a rather chaste kiss he thought momentarily, but then he realized she was just teasing him. She brushed her lips again over his, breathing heavily, then dragged the tip of her tongue right across the cleft. It was an invitation, like a key at the entrance of a lock and he opened for her, pulling her roughly into his arms and delving with his tongue into her hungry mouth. 

She moaned straight into him and Athelstan felt his toes flex at the sound and the vibration of it. 

He pulled away, grabbed her hand and they walked within inches of the now climaxing Torstein, as they ascended into the darker forest. He glanced back at Thyri who was also watching Torstein and his partner. She locked eyes with Athelstan and they smiled at one another, eyes lusty. 

His head grew a little more clear as they increased their distance from the other revelers. Athelstan could just make out the shape of the Uppsala temple through the trees and his heart thrilled at the thought of taking his first woman in such proximity to the statues of Odin and the other Gods.

They didn’t make it into the temple however, and as Thyri lay in the moss beneath him and pulled him against her warmth, he didn’t care. 

She groaned, her hips rolling under him and he had to admit, part of him just wanted to shuffle off his pants a few inches and find that warm, soft heat he knew would be at the meeting of her long legs. As if she’d read his thoughts, Thryi grabbed his hand and thrust it under her skirts. Athelstan collapsed against her and sighed heavily into her neck as his fingers met what he’d only imagined. It was slicker than he’d ever thought, but just as warm. He explored first just the very entrance, wondering vaguely how deep it went… and felt himself twitch at the thought of it being deep enough for the length of him. He withdrew his fingertips slightly, found her folds, spreading her wetness over them. She made a lovely “mmmm” noise at that but shocked Athelstan with a squeal when his finger discovered a small nub near the top. 

Suspecting he was onto something here, he circled his forefinger over the mysterious bit and smiled when she pushed her hips up against his digit and moaned again. Her hands went to his hair and she knotted her fingers in its dark curls. He registered vaguely that she was maybe trying to guide his head downwards at the same moment he realized he wanted to go exactly that direction. He pushed up her skirts to her waist and raided South. 

She nearly leapt off the ground when he put his mouth on her. He’d had no idea what she would taste like, but the moment his tongue met her own dark curls, he couldn’t imagine simple meat and bread ever satiating his hunger again. As he devoured her, she emitted moan after moan and as he felt a few of his hairs pull and threaten to tear from his scalp in her fists and he knew whatever he was guessing at with his mouth was right. After a few strokes around where his fingers had first started, he followed her folds up to that wonderful spot that had made her squeal earlier and sure enough, the gamble worked again. Within a minute, she was trembling, sweating and wailing under his tongue. He snaked a hand under her ass and kneaded the side of her cheek, noticing when he did this, her inner thigh shook against the side of his face. 

He couldn’t take the mystery of her depth another moment and slid his hand from her ass cheek to her entrance. It was even slicker than before, he marveled and the way it was tight, yet yielding to his two probing fingers filled him with a level of lust that his former self would have blushed furiously at. He felt the Viking in him grow stronger as he explored her sex with no shame, no regret and absolute intensity. 

He could tell she went deeper than his fingers and with a hard swallow, Athelstan realized he _would_ fit just beautifully within Thyri. He had to see what was on the other side of her moaning and shaking right now though, so he continued flicking his tongue on that nub and thrusting his fingers slowly into her. His mouth was getting too wet to feel it as much, so he sucked in through his teeth, swallowed, drying out his mouth and finding her again. The increased pressure and friction sent her over the brink and Athelstan struggled to keep his mouth in the right spot as she writhed beneath him. With a shock, he felt her climaxing walls clench rhythmically around his fingers and he made a silent vow to make sure to bring her to this apex again when his cock was buried there. 

Thyri’s moans crested in a howl, then her body slowed, she shuddered beneath him then and let out a long sigh, her body sinking into the moss. Athelstan withdrew his fingers, held one of her quaking thighs in that hand and gently wiped off his mouth against her soft inner thigh. He kissed it, his beard tickling her and smiled at the short, breathy giggle that that brought out of her. 

She weakly pulled him up against her and kissed him deeply. He could tell she enjoyed her taste nearly as much as he did and the thought had him positively throbbing for her now. 

“Who’d have known a virgin monk would be able to figure that out so fast?” she chuckled, smiling teasingly. 

“Well my sweet,” he said, turning his lips to the side of her neck and nipping it gently, “I haven’t been a monk for years and my virginity is as good as gone in a moment.” 

He reached down to shuffle his pants down to his knees and she stroked him a few times in a firm grip before guiding him into her. His fingers and mouth hadn’t prepared him for the glorious sensation of sliding into her. He felt every inch of her accept him and when their groins finally bumped against each other he sighed, happy at the discovery of her extent. 

As he took his first strokes within her, she spread her legs wider and brought her knees up. As his balls bumped up against the undiscovered parts of her, Athelstan realized he felt more alive in this moment, more human than he ever had. Painting with gold had whispered at this vitality, sailing across the open sea when he was first kidnapped had stoked the fire more, but up until this moment, buried deep within a beautiful, willing woman, only fighting and killing had come close to making Athelstan’s heart pump with such intensity and life. As Thyri pulled her legs tighter around him, moaned into his ear and rolled her hips with his, he was glad for this other option. Killing men was awful and gory no matter the glory. Athelstan could always wield his axe, sink it into men with a wet, sickening thunk, but he hated looking upon them afterwards. Sex was a much better sort of penetration, and the splendor, tenfold. The only carnage was beautiful, a smiling, satisfied woman and pleasure pulsating through his veins. 

He didn’t know it would destroy him as well though, feeling only dizzying delight up until this point. Then he felt the same undulating waves from before start within her, around him and Thryi’s breath stuttered in his ear. He felt his balls snug up tightly against him at that and he vaguely wondered what was about to happen next. When she moaned a slow “ohhhhh Athelstannnnn” he found out. Something in his belly tightened, tighter than a wet rope knot at sea, then something crashed through him like waves on a rugged coastline in a storm. 

The Viking conquered the last of the monk within him as he spilled into her with a strangled gasp and a full body shudder. Athelstan didn’t mourn him for a moment.


End file.
